


Submission is Trust, Not Weakness

by DefinitelyNotBees



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry Potter, Explicit Sexual Content, Fiancés to Husbands, Fluff and Smut, Gift Fic, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oddly Wholesome for PWP, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Sex Toys, Smut, Spit As Lube, Spitroasting, Subspace, Top Draco Malfoy, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyNotBees/pseuds/DefinitelyNotBees
Summary: Harry loves Draco. He also loves orgasms. Sadly, he can't always have both. This is the story of how Harry gets fuckingwreckedand how Draco builds him back up again.Enjoy ;)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 15
Kudos: 445
Collections: my done reads





	1. Too Much Yet not Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragoness2000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoness2000/gifts).



Harry’s throat is a desert. His arm muscles are shaking from propping himself up on his elbows for so long. The tendons in his neck strain from their efforts to keep his head upright. His dick is rock-solid and a small pool of precum is forming on his stomach. 

He’s a mess. 

Draco Malfoy knows his shit; he has kept Harry at the edge of orgasm for almost twelve minutes now. Harry has one sole goal: to release the tension that has been building for what must be hours now. 

In the back of Harry’s mind, he knows he asked for this. He knows he loves it. Currently, though, Harry can’t focus on these thoughts; he is far too distracted by the prostate vibrator wedged up his arse. 

His perineum and prostate are constantly being abused. Hearing the constant buzzing of the vibrator multiplies the sensation of his pleasure being out of his control. Endless ripples of hungering for, of _needing_ relief wash over his body. His prostate is starting to feel numb. 

Draco, the sadistic bastard, is having fun keeping Harry on his toes by ramping the settings of the vibrator up or down whenever the mood strikes him. At the moment, the vibrations are so low that they almost tickle; even this has Harry's breathing quickening. He’s so fucked. If he had enough control over his thoughts, he’d be embarrassed by how easily he is falling apart. He doesn’t, so remains blissfully in subspace. Pleasure and pleasure only occupies his mind.

Slowly, Harry gets used to the level of pleasure he is experiencing. He knows he’s not allowed to orgasm until Draco says he can, so he tries not to allow himself to feel really good. It’s working - he finds he can think semi-coherent thoughts again. Harry has it figured out: if he enjoys himself but doesn’t get too into it, he can control how much he feels. 

His somewhat-bearable way of dealing with his situation can’t last long. Sure enough, Draco sees him gradually recovering and increases the intensity of the vibrations by two notches. Just ten seconds of this leaves Harry’s abs contracting, once, twice. 

His arousal blown eyes meet Draco’s. His fiancé looks enraptured by the spectacle before him. The teasing yet loving look on his face gives Harry newfound strength; he hums his pleasure and tries to smile for him. Draco chuckles and smiles back. 

“You want to come, Love?” Draco says. Harry’s eyes snap open and he nods his head frantically. “Well, you’ve only got one more little thing to do, okay? It might get intense, but it’ll be amazing,” he finishes softly. 

Harry tries to reply but his mouth is too dry. He sticks instead to nodding again. By this point his dick is a worrying colour, so red it’s almost purple. 

Draco has been lubing up three of his fingers quite unnoticed by Harry. 

Until that is, he slides two of them in alongside the vibrator. Harry throws his head back and yells. It comes out scratchy and broken. 

Harry can feel the stretch in his rim _just_ this side of painful. In the back of his mind, he notices that the lube has been warmed to increase his comfort. Draco truly is a perfectionist when it comes to Harry’s pleasure. The feeling that he is loved expands like a balloon in his chest, almost overshadowing the fireworks exploding in and around his arse. Almost. 

As Draco's fingers sink into the knuckle, a glob of lube dribbles through his fingers to glide down Harry's arse cheeks. Harry shudders. It’s filthy: especially when the vibrator is still drilling straight into his fucking prostate. 

With his other hand, Draco suddenly pinches one of Harry’s nipples. A stabbing heat rips through him. Harry is torn between arching into the pain and pulling away from it. It's too much, there's too much to focus on! Harry presses his eyes shut against the onslaught. 

“Draco,” he mumbles, “Can I come, please? Please.” Harry is desperate. He’s never needed anything so badly in his life. 

Draco considers. “Yes,” he says eventually. 

Harry could cry. His dick weeps furiously as he allows himself to really feel the pleasure. Just as he is about to reach his climax, Draco sticks the third finger up his arse. The burn of the fingers and the vibrator combined is… fucking incredible. 

Harry’s mouth is wide open but no noises escape. He isn't capable of producing sound. His orgasm hits him like a train. He shudders violently, his spasming dick shooting line after line of cum over his torso. His mind empties completely. Draco slowly removes his fingers but the vibrator is still on, still battering his poor prostate. He thrusts his hips up to better ride the waves, the muscles in his arse burning anew. 

After an impressive thirty seconds, his orgasm dies away. However, Draco has not yet removed the vibrator. _Why hasn’t he taken it out?_ Harry isn’t sure he can take any more. A tear slips down his cheek. 

Draco smoothes it away. 

“Just twenty more seconds, Love, you’re doing so well for me,” Draco says. Harry sniffles and shifts his hips, bucking desperately away from that awful Thing in his arse. The pleasure has mostly gone, it’s just painful now. Everything is heightened. It feels like his prostate is being hammered. 

All of a sudden the pain is gone as the vibrator slides out of him. Harry goes limp with relief. His slick asshole gapes, suddenly feeling cold and exposed. He shivers. 

Draco lays everything aside and immediately pulls Harry into a hug. He whispers into his ear how Harry did so well, he didn’t orgasm for so long that time, how he’s getting so much better at that. Harry relaxes into his loving arms. He doesn’t think his life could get any better. 

His cracked lips manage a small smile. 


	2. Surprise Spitroasts and More of Harry's Favourites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A separate glimpse into the sex lives of Harry and Draco. Unsurprisingly, it's filled with more lovely smut. Enjoy ;)

“Are you going to make good on your word, Draco darling?” Harry teases. He grabs Draco’s shirt and pulls him down to eye level. “I might just have to enjoy myself all alone otherwise,” Harry says, a Cheshire grin tugging at his face. 

His husband plants his hands firmly on Harry’s hips and draws him closer. “Such a smart mouth,” murmurs Draco, his soft tones wildly contrasting the way he shoves Harry up against the wall. Harry frowns, sensing his teasing hasn’t riled the man up in the slightest. Draco brushes Harry’s nipples with barely-there strokes. Even through his shirt, the tantalising sensation is enough for the little nubs to pebble embarrassingly quickly. 

Harry decides to switch things up and loops his hands around Draco’s neck for a kiss. Lips opening immediately, he wastes no time in attempting to establish the fact that _he_ is leading today, thank you very much. Draco’s mouth is unusually pliant; Harry can feel the corners of his lips tugging upwards. _Shit_ \- that means the man has something up his sleeve. 

Harry soldiers on, albeit with some uncertainty. Draco’s nimble fingers begin unbuttoning Harry’s shirt. Harry suspects magical involvement - there’s no way the man can concentrate on kissing and buttons at the same time. Never one to admit defeat, Harry instinctively vanishes Draco’s shirt. He grins into their fiery kiss. 

Draco’s icy fingers suddenly grab his nipples and _twist._ The sensation is like fire and ice both: the burn spreads through his body. Harry moans into the kiss and loses his will to fight. The allure of simply succumbing is going to his head. 

A fleeting suspicion enters Harry’s mind. He breaks the kiss and looks down at his chest. Draco’s hands are on his nipples, yes, but he’s stopped twisting them. Why, then, can Harry still feel the delicious yet painful sensation? 

“You dirty cheat,” Harry says, pointing an accusing finger into Draco’s chest. Smiles light up both of their faces as Draco rumbles a laugh. 

“Did you not ask for me to, I quote, ‘make good on my word?’ Such lofty words from someone who can’t handle the consequences,” quips Draco. Harry rolls his eyes. He recognises the spell. Draco has essentially looped every touch to his body to continue on its own. Harry’s in for a long night. 

Harry, not wanting to relinquish control completely, swiftly unzips Draco’s trousers. A self-satisfied smirk fills his face. 

Draco’s hands suddenly encircle Harry’s wrists. Harry stills. He doesn’t even need to look to sense the penetrating icy gaze fixed upon him. He chances a small, inward smile, for he has provoked the beast into a rage that can only end well for him. 

Harry briefly closes his eyes to enjoy his little victory. When he opens them, inky blackness stretches across his vision. He blinks and his lashes flutter against the silk of his blindfold. It’s a struggle not to allow any surprise to show on his face and give Draco the satisfaction of catching him off guard. He gives his wrists an experimental tug. Harry might as well not have moved at all, for all the movement he is able to achieve. Harry’s mind is scrambling for ways to regain control. 

His poor, abused nipples are once again twisted as the magic completes a loop. 

Subconsciously, Harry arches forwards, presenting his chest like a mating bird.

“Like that, do you, Harry?” Draco says lowly. “Hands behind your back,” he demands. Oh, how Harry would love to be able to resist. As soon as the iron grip is lifted, his hands flit behind his back. 

Fingers fitted under his chin prompt him to lift his head. Simultaneously, the zip on Harry’s trousers pulls slowly downwards. He shivers as they pool on the wooden flooring. It’s disconcerting, not being able to see what Draco is doing. Uncomfortable. Yet, on days like this, it’s exactly what Harry needs. Deep inside, he craves giving up control. This desire has not yet kicked in fully, just enough for Harry to wonder if he really needs to keep fighting. 

Butterfly kisses land on his neck and jawline, his earlobes and cheekbones. Harry smiles. Draco had always loved showing affection, once he’d figured out what that meant. His parents had almost never made any physical contact with him, and with Harry in a similar boat, it meant a long time for the two of experimenting with tentative kisses and touches. 

Fingertips trail down his abdominals, stopping _just_ before the waistband of his boxers. Harry shifts to hopefully make contact with Draco’s wandering hands, to no avail. _Fuck._ Then the echoes of the kisses and touches kick in once more. This, alongside the repeated tugging on his nipples, drives Harry to a new level of desperation. There’s only one thing for it - Harry concentrates momentarily and cuts a section out of his boxers. 

Draco laughs, his hand suddenly squeezing Harry’s now exposed ballsack. Harry groans; the bastard is avoiding his embarrassingly needy cock completely. 

“That was a daring spell, my darling. Are you letting your needs cloud your judgement, perhaps?” Draco says, humming as he rolls Harry’s poor balls in his hands. Harry scoffs but can’t deny it. Then, his breath hitches as Draco pulls his balls steadily upwards and away from his body. There’s a straining feeling that sends fire through his veins: the absolute control Draco has over him contributes to his heightening pleasure. Draco keeps pulling. It’s too much. Harry’s head falls back, his pelvis tilting upwards to alleviate the slight pain. His balls aren’t stretched any further away, thankfully, but the feeling of intensity doesn’t lessen. Harry wishes he could see the look on his husband’s face. 

His balls slap his groin as Draco lets go. Heels click as he stalks behind him. 

“To bed, Harry.” 

The thinly veiled lust in his voice sends goose-flesh scattering down Harry’s arms and neck. In his haste to follow the order, Harry trips on his discarded clothing. His knees bump the bedspread as he clambers up. He’s not sure if he’s still supposed to have his hands behind his back. Better safe than sorry, he supposes, when it comes to his loving yet firm husband. 

“Panties off,” jeers Draco. Harry blushes a deep red. Panties? The kinky sod. He’s wearing boxers, like always. Even so, the taboo image of himself adorned in lace causes a twitch in his exposed cock. Draco snorts. 

“Er, without my hands?” Harry ventures. 

“Of course,” Draco purrs. “Unless, perhaps, you need my help?” 

The simpering bastard. Harry considered his options, of which there are pitifully few. 

“Fine. I need help.” He scowls. 

The scent of Draco surrounds him as icy fingers work off his shorts. Harry clumsily tries to help, wiggling his hips. 

“Took the panties comment to heart, did you, Dear? I must admit, I didn’t expect a striptease.” Draco says, humour lacing his voice. 

Harry stops at once. He sits back, determined to be as unhelpful as possible. Draco chuckles. Harry is decidedly not amused. He’d love to be able to cross his arms firmly across his chest. Sadly, he has to settle for a petulant frown, which admittedly doesn’t have the same effect. Even the lovely twisting in his nipples can’t change his sulky demeanour. 

Harry starts to wish he had the good sense to sulk after his boxers were off - the damn things are lodged just under his knees. 

Draco moves away. Harry hears the shedding of assorted clothing and strains to detect any further movement. 

The silence stretches to fill minutes. 

Harry becomes aware of his exposed cock, of his submissive position. His boxers prevent him from moving his legs while obedience prevents him from moving his arms. There is a draft weaving through his legs. Harry shudders. His nipples are now peaked even between the rounds of twists and tugs. His cock is chubbing up even more, making him constantly conscious of his needs. 

“Draco,” he whispers. His voice cracks almost imperceptibly. 

The floorboards creak as Draco comes to his side. The bed compresses and warm arms are wrapped around Harry’s torso from behind. 

“You're such a good boy, Harry, so patient,” Draco croons. “What do good boys get?” 

“Rewards,” he says shyly. 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” comes the whisper, soft in his ear. Harry smiles. Nods. 

Draco latches onto his neck and sucks. Harry can feel skin pulling away, suctioned into a bruising kiss. As much as he loves kisses on his neck, it’s a major turn-on for him that might make the rest of tonight’s events more difficult to handle. 

“Play with yourself, Harry. Nice and loud for me,” Draco commands. Harry notes with a tinge of pride that his voice is significantly huskier than before Harry’s show of submission. Harry sighs with relief. Finally, he can use his hands again!

First, he runs a hand over his nipples, eager to feel the effects of the intermittent torture. As expected, they are pert and sensitive to touch. Harry huffs his delight at the feeling. He then palms his eager dick in an effort to tamp down the arousal and last a little longer for Draco. It, too, is hard, though not fully erect. Not yet. 

“Good boy,” Draco mutters as he moves to watch the proceedings from a better angle. Harry smiles, his earlier confidence flooding back. His left hand lazily pulls at his nipple. His right begins a slow and steady tugging on his dick, with a slight twist at the top that he so loves. Warmth floods his body. His mouth drops open and he moans, half from pleasure, half from the desire to put on a show.

His eyes shoot open under his blindfold. Draco has cast a spell to lube up his arse. It’s not cold - he isn’t a monster - but it’s shocking enough for Harry’s rhythm to shudder to a halt. 

Draco’s mouth attacks his. Harry, blindfolded and caught unawares, jumps backwards but is able to stay upright. He tentatively enters the kiss as strong arms loop around his back. Tongues touch, with Harry eagerly welcoming Draco in once he regains his bearings. He finds it exhilarating, not being able to see what would happen next. Freeing. 

Their sweet kiss gradually subsides, their mouths parting slowly. The spell that echoed Draco’s actions has stopped: Harry can’t remember when that happened.

“Sit down,” Draco says. Harry is pleased to note that Draco sounds extremely affected by his earlier performance. He lowers again and gasps as a blunt object pushes against his anus. It’s lubed, but it’s a tight squeeze given that he hasn’t even had any fingers up there today. The head pushes through the tight ring of muscle with an accompanying gasp from Harry. He is rewarded by the slick sound of Draco starting to masturbate. 

This is all the motivation Harry needs to seat himself fully on the mystery dildo. He bottoms out and stays there, breathing deeply to get used to the burn. He lifts himself slowly. His mouth opens again to vocalise his pleasure. 

Then, Harry feels a finger invade his mouth and press on his tongue. He stops fucking himself. He quickly starts again when Draco’s other hand leaves his dick to administer a quick spank to his backside. 

The initial pain of the stretch has gone: all Harry feels is a wonderful full sensation. It’s not quite as satisfying as being impaled on Draco’s cock, but still pleasurable. He speeds up.

Harry soon finds his thighs beginning to burn. Drool is building up inside his mouth thanks to Draco’s fingers preventing him from swallowing. Harry’s cock is bouncing - if he was thinking properly, he’d be embarrassed. But, he’s being fucked and he doesn’t have any thinking power to spare. 

Loud grunts fall heavily from his mouth. His lips being held open means there isn’t anything he can do to stifle his pleasure.

Draco evidently decides he’s been a good boy. A hand wraps around Harry's own and restarts the rhythm on his cock. Harry groans and his head flops to his chest. A line of drool escapes and hangs from his chin. 

“Almost there, Harry. Last thing now, okay? Lean forwards for me,” says Draco. Harry obeys without question. He jolts forwards as the dildo suddenly starts pounding into him… straight onto Draco’s waiting cock. It slides past his lips, dangerously close to his gagging point before he can prepare himself. Draco pulls back quickly and Harry feels a rush of affection toward him. Always so considerate. He follows the movement, eager as always to have his favourite person in his mouth. Harry loves the weight of cock on his tongue. 

Draco’s hand lands on Harry’s head. No pressure is applied, it’s a gesture of gratitude and apology. 

Then the drool he built up earlier slips down his throat. He gags and pulls sharply away from Draco, coughing. The pounding in his arse stops immediately as Draco stops the spell and asks if he’s okay. Harry nods, sitting up gingerly. 

Draco lifts the blindfold. Harry blinks. Smiles. 

“I’m okay.” His voice cracks. Then he reaches for Draco’s dick. Draco grasps Harry’s in return. An easy rhythm begins, thanks to the spit and lube on both of their cocks. Tension builds again in Harry’s navel. The intense warmth spiralling throughout his body captivates his mind - it’s a struggle to keep thinking about Draco’s pleasure.

Draco’s hand speeds up. Harry squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck, he’s going to come. He whines.

“Yeah, comes for me, Harry,” Draco growls. 

The throaty order finishes him off. One last tug and he’s coming in strips all over Draco’s hand. Sparks fly in his brain as he succumbs to the pleasure that’s been building for _so fucking long_. Draco’s hand joins Harry’s on Draco’s dick. A few firm pumps and he finishes too with a hoarse cry. 

Sticky hands find each other and intertwine. Harry basks in the pleasure and the resulting twitches in his cock every so often.

When his breaths even out, Harry’s eyelids start to droop.

“Love you. C’n we sleep now?” Harry asks, hopefully. 

“Yeah, Love, I’ll just get us a cloth to clean up with, then we can sleep,” Draco replies, sounding equally blissed out. Harry smiles, his eyes drifting closed.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I defo loved writing it. Dragoness2000, I think I ticked all of your boxes there ;) 
> 
> If anyone has any more requests I'm happy to provide. Comments and kudos are appreciated as always. (Seriously please comment, I love them :))
> 
> Love,  
> DefinitelyNotBees xx


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